The Bogart of Big Ben
by Alex Corbin
Summary: Working for the Ministry of Magic, Scottish wizard Angus McWeveral must track down and dispose of a pesky Bogart that has been terrorising the muggles of London.
1. Chapter 1

Angus felt the rush of wind blasting his hair and jacket backwards as he nose-dived his broomstick directly downwards, aiming to land right in the centre of a London back-alley. The rain rushed past him and stained his goggles as he sped downwards, hoping that no muggles would spot the strange man on the broomstick plummeting through the air as he aimed for the alleyway. He got closer and closer, and just before the two buildings either side of the alley surrounded him, he pulled back and levelled off, braking and bringing his rapid descent to a stomach-churning halt. He lowered slowly after that, his feet touching down gently as he stepped off his trusty, slightly out-dated Nimbus 2000 and picked it up, plucking it from where it hovered a couple of feet from the ground.  
He quickly scanned around the alleyway, relieved that no muggles were around, then pulled the leather guitar case from his back, storing his broomstick within. He swung the large, black case back onto his back again and quickly straightened his outfit up, removing his flight-goggles, adjusting his jacket and shaking his thick, brown hair, sending rain-droplets all around him, not that that did much good considering the torrents of rain that cascaded down around Angus.  
He was a relatively short man, with thick brown hair, hazel eyes and a thin, messy brown beard. He wore what he understood to be typical muggle attire: a pair of black and white canvas trainers, dark blue denim jeans, a grey shirt and a light brown jacket on top. In a deep, inside pocket on the left side of his jacket his wand lay, hidden and protected from muggles. It had a dragon heartstring core and was made of hard, smooth birch, with a metallic handle and measuring up at about twelve inches in length. Its design was fairly simple, with no great detail on it and just a simple, cord like design that wound its way up the grip.  
Angus quickly made his way through the alleyway and tried to find his way out of the back alleys. Why muggles needed all these extra paths and streets, he would never understand, but he had to get through them relatively quickly, because he had a job to do. He was employed by the Ministry of Magic, as of only a few years ago when he had left Hogwarts, to seek out and remove anything in the muggle world that should not be there. His job today was to capture a rogue boggart that had been terrorising muggle tourists around the Houses of Parliament, and he had a lot to do.  
His first job was to actually confirm that what he was looking for was indeed a boggart, as the only real evidence of this was that all the terrified muggles who encountered the creature in question had all given completely different accounts of what they had seen, and had also said that it was "probably just my imagination" in most cases. Angus sighed. Muggles were so useless at dealing with these things independently.  
He eventually emerged into an actually main street, joining the crowds in his muggle guise as he made his way towards the Themes, so that he could then follow this towards Parliament. It was around midday, and the crowds were out in full force as tourists and locals alike travelled the streets in search of somewhere that would feed them. Angus' stomach rumbled. He realised that he too would need to be getting food at some point.  
He followed the crowds and let the current of bodies carry him down the busy street for a while, until they brought him to a road that ran alongside the River Themes. It was called the embankment, if he recalled correctly. He spied a small, slightly run-down looking café further up the road and headed towards it, walking up to the glass door at the front and stepping inside the small building,  
sighing when he was finally out of the rain.  
He looked around at the room he found himself in and saw that it was only a small café, with only a few customers sipping tea at the odd table or two and a couple of small families of tourists, happily tucking into meals of fish and chips and the like. He saw a small table nestled against a wall in the far corner of the establishment and crossed the room quietly, trying not to disturb any of the customers he passed. He reached his table and sighed, settling down into the metal chair and leaning on the table in front of him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a recent issue of _The Daily Prophet, _quietly reading the paper, content in himself.  
On the front page of the paper read the story: _Scotland to Get an Independent Ministry? _He rolled his eyes. He hoped not, that could mean he has to move right up to the north, to his home country of Scotland. He ignored the story and its moving image of a group of wizards in kilts, waving a Scottish flag patriotically, turning the page and looking for more interesting stories. He found something much more interesting on the next page, a story about the upcoming Quiditch World Cup, and read ahead enthusiastically. He had enjoyed Quiditch greatly during his time at Hogwarts, and had been Ravenclaw's best keeper at the time.  
While he reminisced in his fond memories of every wizard's favourite sport, he failed to notice a young, bored looking waitress walking over to his table, holding a notepad and a pen. She cleared her throat several times, Angus not once looking up, and eventually spoke up and managed to grab his attention. "Can I take your order, sir?"  
Angus looked up and smiled, speaking in his clear Scottish accent. "Ah, yes. I'll take a pumpkin pasty please."  
She gave him a puzzled look, then sighed at him and wrote something down. "Alright, one pasty."  
Angus nodded. "Thank you." He looked back down at his paper as the waitress left him, walking through a door that said 'Staff only'. He continued to read his paper for the next ten minutes or so, the rain pattering against the roof of the building creating a cosy, relaxing atmosphere for him to read in.  
The waitress returned some time later with a plate, upon which sat a delicious looking pasty. She looked at him and then at her notebook. "That's one pound fifty, please."  
Angus put down his paper. "Ah, yes, hang on." He began rummaging through his pockets, searching for his wallet. Eventually he managed to fish it out of the mass of random, assorted rubbish that always accumulated in his pockets, and then began rummaging through that instead. "One pound… that's the little gold-ish coloured one, right?" She nodded, a bewildered look on her face. He smiled and placed a one pound coin in her hand. "And a fifty… as in fifty pence? Little silver one, heptagon shaped?" The waitress gave another bewildered nod, and Angus cheerfully dropped the second coin into her hand. She slowly put down his pasty and walked off, still looking bewildered as she went back through the 'Staff only' doors.  
Angus stuffed his wallet back into his jacket and looked back at his meal, picking it up with glee and taking a large bite out of it. He was disappointed to find that the contents were not pumpkin based, but put that aside once he decided that the meat and potato it contained instead was a worthy substitute. Once he had finished his meal, he got up from his chair and stuffed _The Prophet _back into his pocket, before slinging the guitar case that held his Nimbus over his shoulder and heading back out into the rain with a full stomach, re-joining the crowds that were heading towards the Houses of Parliament.


	2. Chapter 2

Angus allowed the teeming crowds to drag him through the teeming rain and towards the Houses of Parliament. He did not go to the entrance, where the huge line of tourists waited to enter so that they could go through a boring tour of the pretentious halls, but instead hung around the corner where the Bogart had reportedly been, where the road along the embankment split away and carved its way deeper into the city.  
Angus looked around the area, this being roughly where the Bogart sightings had happened. He frowned. _The problem with Bogarts, _he thought, _is that you never know what they're going to look like. _He looked out for anything that people may find slightly 'scary', unsure about whether the creature was even in the area.  
Suddenly, something caught his eye, making him grin. Some distance away, among the throng of the crowd he saw a man walking along with two children, a huge spider crawling over his shoulder. He decided that evidently the spider was the Bogart, as spiders that big did not exist in Britain outside of a few isolated, dark forests. He pushed through the crowd, apologising to the muggles he was pushing and shoving out of his way as he quite rudely attempted to catch the man. He knew that if he caught this Bogart then that would be it, his job would be done.  
He came very close behind the man as the hairy spider's legs gently stroked his face, grabbing his attention. What followed was both highly amusing to Angus and highly irritating, as he watched the man's face take on an expression of sheer terror, and he leapt an impressive height into the air and batted the spider off of his shoulder, screaming like a school girl as his children watched in confusion. The problem now was that the Bogart had been thrown to the floor and was in danger of either being killed, or worse, lost. Angus leapt into the space that had been cleared for the man, deciding that he'd best intervene.  
With a crowd of muggles watching the bizarre scene, Angus fell onto his hands and knees and searched the floor for the spider. He saw it scurry away under the feet of a crowd vanish. He leapt back up to his feet again and looked at the crowd in question. "Alright, did anybody see where that went?"  
One of the muggles, a tall, middle aged man, looked at Angus sceptically. "And why do you care?"  
Angus quickly conceived a lie, thinking of all of his muggle knowledge. "I'm a zookeeper." He quickly said. _Zoos have animals, right?  
_However awfully conceived the lie may have been, however, the man shrugged. "Well, it's gone now. I doubt it'll come back."  
Angus sighed. "Right. Great." Annoyed, he looked at the man who the Bogart had terrified. He was shaking and quivering, clearly a broken man. Angus shook his head irritably, and walked away from the scene of the drama. He looked across the busy road and saw a vacant bench on the path, facing Parliament. He crossed the road, running across the perilous tarmac strip and making it safely to the other side, before he briskly walked across to the bench he had seen. The crowds were passing by behind him noisily, so he blocked them out and tried to conceive a plan on how he would catch his elusive quarry.  
He stared out over the passing crowds while he thought, thinking about how he would catch a Bogart in a crowd of muggles. He scanned up and down the paths on both sides of the road, but had no luck in locating the creature. The problem was that if the person the Bogart was after had a phobia of a particular person then it would simply become that person, making it blend in completely with the crowd.  
He twiddled his thumbs together as he looked up at the sky, the rain having lightened but still being present in the form of a light spittle. His broom on his back made leaning back in the bench slightly uncomfortable when he attempted it, and he was forced to lean forwards instead. He fiddled with his wand in his pocket slightly, picking at the handle and rolling it between his fingers to help him think and concentrate.  
He was distracted slightly when a young man of around twenty sat next to him on the bench, speaking whilst holding one hand up to his ear. He spoke in a thick cockney accent, his voice very casual. "Alright?"  
Surprised, Angus looked at the man and replied. "Erm… yeah, you?"  
The man gave a nonsensical reply. "Ah yeah, I know right?"  
Angus, more confused than anything, frowned. "You do?"  
The man chuckled slightly. "Alright, see you later then mate." He pulled his hand away from his ear, revealing that it had a strange, rectangular device in it with a glowing front that had moving pictures on it, much like a magical photograph. The man looked Angus up and down, who stared back in confusion. "Are you alright, mate?"  
Angus nodded, slowly. "I just told you… yes, I am."  
The man, confused, got up from the bench. "Right…" He put his mobile phone in his jacket pocket and walked off, slightly put off by Angus' strange behaviour.  
Angus felt much the same way. "What a strange man…" He mumbled to himself, watching the man leave.  
Angus went back to watching the street, and after three hours of no luck he decided that just sitting around and waiting the Bogart out was a bad idea. He got up from his chair, deciding that if the Bogart wouldn't come to him, he was going to have to go to it. Of course, as soon as he knew where it was.  
He walked across the road and merged with the crowd back on the other side again, walking up and down and looking out for the shape-shifter with none of the luck he had had the first time. He cursed himself for not reacting quicker and grabbing the spider, and he decided that the next time the Bogart showed itself it would _not _be so lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

Angus had been moving up and down the street along with the crowds for about three hours, and still no sign of a Bogart. His feet throbbed and his legs ached, so he decided that he may as well go and sit in a café or something for as long as it took while he actually came up with a plan to catch the Bogart. He left the street and walked back through London, eventually coming to the café he had eaten at earlier that day and seeing that it was still open, even though the sun had begun to set and not many customers would be stopping by anymore. He headed over to it and once again headed inside, sitting at the same table as before and seeing that he was the café's only customer at the time.  
He sat down and waited for the waitress to come over again, ordered a cup of tea and once again paid her in the strangely shaped muggle coins. He stared into his tea as he stirred it with a spoon. How does one catch a Bogart? He thought about typical Bogart behaviours he knew of. He knew, quite obviously, that they took on the shape of their victim's worst fear. That was the point of them. But how would he capture something that can shape-shift?  
He then had another, more helpful thought. They usually lived in small, dark places. That would help him greatly, as the creature could even be in dark place right that very moment, hiding away from the world. He smiled to himself. One plan of attack could be to just go out and search all of the smallest, darkest places he could find around Parliament. Of course, he new that the muggle police would not like that. Not at all. But he had no other ideas, and didn't think he could come up with anything better.  
He sat over his tea for a few more minutes before he finished it, then hastily got up and left the café. He made his way back to the road he had seen the Bogart originally at as quickly as he could, trying to make it their before night fell completely and the Bogart would most likely come out of its hiding place. Which, he realised, he hadn't even located yet.  
He got back to the road and looked up and down it, seeing less crowds now as people made their way home for the night. He saw a few suspects for hiding places, like grids on the floor and the small boots of the cars that passed by. He dismissed the latter option, deciding that even if that were the case then the Bogart would be long gone by now.  
He instead began walking up the path towards the nearest grid. He stopped at it and crouched down, peering inside but seeing nothing but darkness. He reached into his pocket and produced his wand, pointing it into the grid. "_Lumos." _The gird was illuminated by a bright white light, but nothing could be seen inside other than water and waste. He stood up again and began heading over to the grid after a quick mutter of "_Nox."  
_He kept his wand in his hand in anticipation of the next grid that was coming up by the road, which unfortunately did not help to keep prying eyes away from him. A white car with blue and fluorescent yellow stripes on the side and a pair of blue lights on top pulled over just ahead of him. As he passed it, a man in a black helmet in the car's driver's seat called Angus over. "Sir, do you mind coming here for a moment?"  
Surprised, Angus quickly glanced around himself, then back at the police officer. "Me?"  
The officer nodded. "Yes, now just come here a second."  
Slightly confused, Angus walked over to the side of the car and bent down to the officer's eye-level, frowning. "What's the problem?"  
The officer pointed to the wand in Angus' hand. "What's that, then?"  
Flustered, Angus lowered it from the window. "It's nothing."  
The officer sighed irritably. "I know that's obviously not true. It looks like a weapon to me."  
"What? No, no! It's not a weapon! Well, I suppose it could be…"  
The officer, and the one in the passenger seat, opened their respective doors and got out of the car. The man who had spoken before now did so again. "You're under arrest for the possession of dangerous weapons in a public place." He was advancing on Angus, now. "You don't have to say anything, although anything you do say may be-"  
Before he could continue, Angus had whipped his wand back up again. "_Obliviate!" _  
The officer paused as Angus used the brief moment of forgetful confusion to put his wand away and turn away from the officer, trying to look like they hadn't had anything to do with him in the first place. He heard the two officers confusedly trying to figure out what had happened, and decided that he'd best get away before they decided he looked suspicious again.  
As soon as he was sure that the police car was gone, he continued his search for the Bogart, but with no look. He looked in every grid he could see along the road without catching wind of the creature, and was greatly disheartened by the lack of luck he was experiencing at that moment. He sighed as he checked the last grid, his wand once again illuminating nothing but a dark hole of nothing but stinking brown water and a pile of crisp packets and cigarettes. "_Nox." _He miserably doused the light on the end of his wand with the incarnation.  
He was about to give up on his search for the night when something caught his attention. Coming from somewhere nearby was a long, high-pitched scream. It sounded terrified, and he decided that either the Bogart was currently attacking its next victim, or someone was under attack from something a little more mundane. Either way, he decided that he had the power to stop both situations he would, so he took off running down the street in pursuit of the noise.


	4. Chapter 4

Angus rushed across the road, narrowly avoiding being run over by several cars, and sprinted into the alleyway the sound had come from. His wand still in his hand, he looked around for the source of the scream, and saw a woman backed against a wall. She was breathing incredibly shallowly and her chest rose and fell much quicker than was healthy. Angus ran over to her. "What's wrong? What is it?"  
She tried to catch her breath for a few seconds, before she gave up and spoke between gasps. "It… it doesn't matter, you wouldn't believe me."  
Angus shook his head. "Believe me, I'll believe you."  
She pointed to a wheelie bin behind him. "In there… it's… it's…"  
Angus put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." He turned away from her and stared at the bin, slowly approaching it with his wand raised up in defence. He would have looked ridiculous to any watching muggles, a man slowly creeping over to a wheelie bin, pointing a stick at it as if it were going to pounce on him at any moment. He reached the bin, which sat ominously silent, and placed a hand on the bottom of the lid. He turned and looked back at the woman, who was now watching in silence and had control of her breathing, then flung the bin open and leapt backwards, pointing his wand at the shape that shot out.  
What emerged was a huge snake, clearly of unnatural size, that hissed and spat as it slopped onto the ground then 'stood up', its head reaching up to about twice Angus' height. He grinned when he saw it. "Ah! There you are! Now, just kindly get back in the bin and I'll escort you out of-" He was cut off when the Bogart began to change shape, becoming a swirling mass of blackness before it took a definitive shape.  
As soon as he saw the shape the creature had taken, Angus' forehead began to sweat and his knees shook slightly, but he knew that he had to control his fears and get the job done. The Bogart howled as it swung a werewolf claw at Angus, who was luckily aware enough to jump back and avoid being torn to shreds. It snarled as it narrowly missed him, and he wasted no time in getting the muggle woman out of harm's way. He grabbed her arm and threw her towards the exit to the alley, before turning back to face his worst fear.  
"Alright…" He pointed his wand at the creature. "Just… just get back inside the bin and I can lock you up and put you back out in the wild."  
The werewolf growled and bared its huge, yellow teeth at him.  
"No?" His voice quivered. He was being such a wimp about this, he realised. _This is why you weren't a Gryfindor, _he thought to himself, the grim humour making him smile slightly. But he was a Ravenclaw, and if there's one thing Ravenclaws can do it's remember spells. _What was that spell? _He racked his brain, trying to remember the incantation. It was on the tip of his tongue when the werewolf suddenly leapt on him, causing him to scream in horror as he was thrown to the ground, his wand and his broom both skittering away from him as he hit the cobbles.  
Right in front of him was the drooling, snarling face of a grotesque wolf, and he was now easy pickings. Ironically, he remembered the spell. _Ridikulous. _He gulped as the werewolf threw its head back and howled loudly, ready to look back down again and tear his throat out. It lunged its head at him and he narrowly dodged it, hearing its maw clearly snapping shut right by his ear. It brought its head back again and slashed his cheek with its right claw, blood gushing away from the searing wound and covering his face and the pavement.  
He gritted his teeth as he tried desperately to face his fears. _The spell only works if you block out your fear, _he thought to himself, ignoring the fact that he was currently the Werewolf's next meal. _No, _he thought, _this isn't even a werewolf! It's a Bogart, Angus, and if you take care of this then the ministry will pay you a nice amount of money.  
_The werewolf tried to slash him again, but instead he brought up a hand and caught the claw. _It's not real, _he thought, _and it hasn't got the strength of a werewolf. _He head butted the creature right in the nose and watched the blood drip out of its flaring nostrils. It yelped in pain, then growled menacingly as it tried again to tear out his throat. He managed to throw off its aim by twisting the arm he had caught, and it instead went to gnaw at his arm. He brought his hand away, although he wasn't fast enough as the thing's jaws closed around his wrist and he screamed out in agony, feeling his flesh and bone giving way like butter.  
The thing released his mangled arm, letting the bloodied limb fall limb next to him as he stared at the broken and torn wrist in horror. It reared its head back to lunge again, and he punched it hard in the throat with his right hand, the only one that wasn't currently lying next to him in a bloody mess. The creature angrily snapped at his attacking hand, narrowly missing the fist as it gasped slightly at the sudden impact on its wind pipe.  
The werewolf had clearly finally had enough of his retaliations, as it finally decided to cut his life short. It used its right claw to grab him around the throat and dug in its claws, choking and scratching him at the same time. It growled as he began coughing and spluttering and brought its head back one last time, triumph lacing the howl that followed. It was about to send its jaws flying down around Angus' bloodied face when it was suddenly interrupted by a shout from the end of the alley.  
"Ridikulous!"


	5. Chapter 5

The werewolf instantly staggered back from Angus and whimpered as its fur turned white and a pink bow appeared on its head, making it look pathetic and taking away any fear he had. Instantly it snarled and transformed into a snake again, lunging over Angus and hissing through the air. He heard a bang and a "Gotcha!" from behind him, and turned around to see a woman lying on top of a banging, rattling suitcase, which clearly contained the Bogart. She quickly padlocked it shut, keeping the creature at bay.  
Angus got to his feet, cradling his mangled arm and staring at the strange woman in front of him. Clearly a witch due to the wand in her hand, she had messy, knotted brown hair and a random mishmash of warm clothes wrapped tightly around her. She looked very young, but it was hard to tell because of the vast layers of clothes and dirt that covered her. She lay on top of the suitcase, holding it at bay, and smiled at Angus. "Thought I'd repay the favour."  
It dawned on Angus who this woman was. "Oh, you're the woman from before? The one it was attacking?"  
She rolled her eyes as she stood up from the case, the Bogart having tired of banging against its sides. "Oh, no." Sarcasm laced her tone. "I'm just a passing muggle who thought she'd help out the man struggling with an over-sized husky."  
Angus nodded. "Point taken." He bend down and picked up his case with his broom in his right hand, slinging it over his shoulder. He then tried to use his left hand to pick up his wand, but winced as he tried to move the shattered limb.  
The woman came over and picked it up for him, putting it in his right hand. "You alright? Did it get you?"  
He smiled at her, the movement in his cheeks causing the fresh wound on his face to drip with fresh blood. "Yes, but I think I'll live." He pointed his wand at his left arm. "_Brackium emendo!" _He grimaced as the bones in his arm clicked and snapped back into place, and most of the damage was fixed. Of course, there was still the gaping wound the Bogart's teeth had left, which he held tightly to try and slow the bleeding.  
The witch came over to him. "Here, let me help you with that." She tore a scrap off of one of her many layers of clothing and wound it tightly around Angus' wrist, staining it with his blood and causing him to shudder at the feeling of the cloth touching his bare flesh and bone.  
He looked at it sceptically. "That won't stop infection."  
The woman sighed with annoyance. "Oh, shall I remove it?"  
Angus looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, I do appreciate it."  
She nodded. "Good, because that's one of my best shirts I just ripped for you."  
Angus looked around the dark alley and frowned. "What were you doing here, anyway?"  
She shrugged. "I live here."  
"What, as in here? In this alleyway?"  
"Mm hm."  
Angus frowned. "Can I ask why?"  
"Well, it's warm and sheltered and has some great food waste dumped here every now and then."  
Angus shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant to ask why you're homeless in the first place."  
She shrugged. "My family kicked me out of the house when I wasn't staying at Hogwarts. Since I finished I've permanently had nowhere to stay."  
"Why would they do that?"  
"The family's always been sorted into Gryfindor, going all the way back as far as we can trace them. I… well, I was put in Slytherin."  
"And they kicked you out for that?"  
"Yep. My family are very proud people."  
Angus looked at the alleyway, which now had his blood on its floor. "And you're just going to carry on living this way?"  
She shrugged. "Suppose so."  
Angus felt extremely sorry for her, and considered letting her stay at his house, out in the hills further north. "What's your name?"  
"Minerva."  
Angus smiled. "That seems… unusual, for someone so young."  
Minerva smirked. "My parents named me after the head of Gryfindor. Fat lot of good that did, eh?" She paused, then said "So what's your name?"  
"Angus McWeveral."  
She chuckled. "Not very Scottish."  
"Yes, very funny." Angus looked around at the alleyway. "So, Minerva, you want to carry on living here?"  
"Well, obviously not but I suppose there's not many other places to go, are there?" Minerva sounded incredibly unhappy with her predicament.  
Angus opened his case and pulled out his Nimbus 2000. "Well, you could always stay at my house for a while."  
Minerva's face lit up. "I could? Where do you live?"  
Angus grinned at Minerva's gleeful reaction. "Oh, nowhere near London. I live in house in the hills, to the north."  
Minerva looked down at the suitcase. "What about the Bogart?"  
Remembering his job, Angus sighed. "Oh, right. I'll leave him somewhere in the countryside where he won't scare as many muggles."  
Minerva seemed slightly suspicious of Angus, still. "Why were you chasing it in the first place?"  
"It's my job. The Ministry pay me to travel up and down the country, getting rid of any magical beings that try to invade the muggle world."  
Minerva seemed impressed. "And you do that every day?"  
"Most days. It's only a part time job, but it pays a lot. Anyway," He hopped onto the Nimbus and gestured for Minerva to join him. "Shall we see if my broom will carry all three of us?"  
Minerva grinned, picking up the case and sitting behind Angus on the broom, which sunk very slightly. "Let's go."  
Angus smiled. "Alright. Ready?"  
"Ready."  
Angus looked to the sky. "Allons-y!" They zipped up into the sky, out of the alleyway seemingly unaffected by the extra weight.  
As they flew, Angus pulled out his goggles and fastened them onto his face, while Minerva shouted ahead to him. "I never guessed you would know French!"  
Angus shouted back. "I saw it on one of those muggle 'televisions' a few years ago. Thought it sounded appropriate!"  
Minerva shook her head in amusement, ant the two of them zipped off into the night sky, the suitcase being held precariously between them as they left the airspace over London and headed for the hilly English countryside, invisible against the blackness of the cloudy night sky.


End file.
